3 and a half Walls
by ClosetCynicist
Summary: A struggle on the author's part to write a nice fic. On the side of the story, though, it's about an android named Oliver, and his saving Angel.
1. Chapter 1

I think I am human. I really do. Descartes once said "I think, therefore I am". How can my personality, my feelings, my very being be untrue? Does it matter, how these thoughts arise? Does it matter if they are conjured by a man made construct of nanoscopic silicon-graphite threads? Does that make these oh so real emotions, not feelings, but mere calculations?

I can think, but I can never be.

When the first androids were biosynthesized from a careful fusion of lab-cultivated cells and hyper-frequency processors in 2023, the world was in awe. Heralded as the new technological revolution, these incredibly realistic imitations of human behaviour were touted as the solutions of everything. From disease control to frontline warfare, social behaviour research to personal entertainment, androids were perfect for jobs to dangerous and risky for human lives.

But the cyborgs began to feel. As they assimilated more and more traits from people, they took on a more sinister image. Stealing jobs, future Terminators, trying to replace humanity. We couldn't help it. As we learnt from the very species who created us, they were starting to reject our development into mirror images of themselves. Fearful of becoming servants to a master race of hyperintelligent robots, the humans began to shut down their metal-infused counterparts. Thousands of androids were scrapped after just 3 years of existence, thrown away without a care for the minds that they had developed.

It was a holocaust of the machines. But one that no one cared about.

Except for Angel.

Angel Keri Oftanzas, son of Sir William Oftanzas, CEO of Oftanzas Biosystems inc, and lead researcher of the team who birthed Earth's first android. Of course, my master is brilliant in his own right, but he was much better known as the son of the genius scientist and billionaire who pioneered electro-nervous transmissions and seamlessly integrated the central nervous system with a printed circuit board.

While Sir Oftanzas eventually recognised the "threat" that we posed to society, Angel refused to give his own android companion up, He refused to give me up.

On the day I was supposed to be sent of to the local toxic wastes disposal facility, I remember Angel grabbing my hand and handcuffing himself to me. Yep, handcuffed. He quite obstinately said, and I quote "If you throw _him_, Oliver, not it, not that, away, you're gonna have to throw me away too." The resulting argument that ensued between Angel and Sir Oftanzas was quite the spectacle to behold, especially considering that I remained firmly attached to Angel's wrist the whole time.

Eventually, Oftanzas gave up (as many people do when faced by an unwavering Angel), and let him "keep me", like a pet. Hey, I know you don't care, but I have feelings too you know. Anyhow, that's how I ended up living in the grandiose house of Sir William Oftanzas, and his 15 year old son, my heavenly saviour, Angel.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oliver," Sir Oftanzas bellowed in his deep throated rumble. Towering at 1.8m tall, every word that left his lips felt like an order. Coupled with his expensive tailored suits, wide neck, handlebar moustache and cold stoney eyes, the man exudes an aura of intimidation.

"Yes sir?"

"I'm sending you to school"

Now I'm sure that there are many perfectly valid reasons for me to be sent to school, but at the very moment, none seem to be coming to mind. "Wh - what?" I managed to, with veritable class and swagger might I add, croak.

"As you know, you currently have the ability to access and download any information available on the internet instantly. However, we need to gather information on how well your sociobehavioural faculties are developing, which can only be qualifiably verified by interpersonal interaction. So we intend to put you into an environment that should engender ample situations for social interaction with humans of a similar biological age, to look at the rate of development of abstract behaviours and personalities." Wasting no time in offering his explanation to me, I nodded along understanding perfectly everything he said up till 'sociobehavioral'...

Angel was ecstatic, anyhow, when I told him that we'd be going to school together, and kept on going on and on about how it'd be great and "we'd have _sooo_ much fun together" and he'd show me around and be like a senior and I began to doubt his ability to deal with minor news. I made his favourite marmalade pie to shut him up and went about packing a bag (Ralph Lauren was the cheapest I could find) with stationery and one of the many spare laptops lying around. Angel came up to my room later on to help me decide what to pack, before launching into a full-fledged speech about the subtle and refined art of surviving day 1 of Secondary school (Is that Junior High in America? I wouldn't know, nor would I care). I decided that the best course of action to take would be to shove him out of the room and lock my door. He sort of scrabbled at the door for awhile, shouting things like "You're so mean", or "I'm just trying to help," and even the occasional "Fucking hell, open the goddamn door you piece of shit!"

I decided that sleeping would be the best way for me to prepare for my big day tomorrow. I'd like to say that I stayed up all night thinking and fretting about tomorrow, but honestly, I didn't think or care about a single thing that would happen tomorrow. Just take life as it comes I guess (Hah. I bet you were expecting me to lose sleep over my first day at a school. Too bad audience, I'm a hipster. I don't pander to your every whim and fancy. Now I take but back everything I said I'm sorry please don't leave me).

The morning of my first day of school, I showered, ionized my teeth (I can't believe people used to brush them), and reached to take my uniform that did not yet exist because I completely forgot about that. Lo and behold, in burst my saviour, Angel, clad only in a towel wrapped around his skinny waist, messed up spare uniform flung over his shoulder, with crazily flopping blonde hair still dripping steadily onto the polished marble floor.

My very much still naked body decided to stare in surprise for a whole second, before registering, analysing, and processing the fact that, yes, indeed I am unclothed. Further analysis revealed that the clothes which, due to my ignorance, were not on my body, are draped over the shoulder of a rather similarly clothed boy. A simple inference then determined that in order to nullify the problem of my current state of relative nudity, I would have to 1) walk five steps completely naked, 2) take the uniform currently hanging on his shoulders and 3) begin the rather awkward process of changing in front of a person I share no more blood with than Pablo Picasso.

"Get the FUCK OUT!" I screamed. This seemed to kick Angel to gear, as his entire face transformed into a swollen blood filled balloon of shame, and he zipped blindingly fast towards the door, tossing the uniform in my general direction at some point along the route of departure.

He can be such an idiot sometimes...

Even though we are rich, Angel has to walk to school everyday because his father refused to send him anywhere (another repercussion of the Handcuff Incident) at all. In all honestly, considering that the building was just a 10 minute walk away, I guess rolling up in a limousine would have been a teensy bit overkill. Along the route to school, Angel was back to his cheery self, having seemingly forgotten all about this morning's incident.

"...so if you want to not get killed by Mr Baxter, don't forget to finish all the homework before his lesson. And don't get sent out of class before his lesson either. Or get scolded by some other teacher before his lesson. Just don't do anything bad before his lesson K-"

"Um, Angel," I interrupted, "what do you do to make friends... Like I mean I'm supposed to test out social interactions or something like that and... well I don't know how to go about that." Saying that sentence, for some inexplicable reason, was one of the hardest things I had ever done in my life. I shocked myself with the number of ellipses I was forced to insert into that line.

A flicker of doubt seemed to cross Angel's face before he answered, "Oh. Just be nice I guess."

"Huh. OK. Very helpful."

This time, Angel replied hastily, "Don't let them hate you. Be the same. Don't stand out. As long as nobody knows you, you're fine." He seemed to grow into himself a little when he said that, almost as if the words reminded him of a painful memory... It was all very foreshadow-ey and everything.

The mood the rest of the way to school was hung over by the almost ominous words of Angel. What kind of school was I going into that could bring even the ever gleeful angel down.

St. Etens was a large, imposing red structure that towered over the bungalows and terraces of the surrounding neighbourhood. Located in the 15th district, home to the rich and not so famous, St. Etens was patronized by children of the moderately well to do - CEOs of small companies, fairly successful businessmen and the likes. In other words, it's the perfect breeding ground for privileged snobs. The moment I walked into the school foyer, my slut sensors went off the charts. I was immediately surrounded my conversations like "OMG, like he is _so_ hot" or "So... Who did you sleep with last night" and even the occasional "Hey who's that new kid. He's kinda hot isn't he." It wasn't until I walked into class 3.22 and had every pair of functioning eyes ogle me that I realised slutty convo number 3 was about me.

I'm not sure how I feel about being called "hot" by the very same people whose greatest achievements were sleeping with 2 guys in one night and whose most compelling dreams were to have a threesome with some random boy band. Angel did a little shrinking ritual thing and hunched behind me, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone but the floor. As I stand in the doorway, skinny blonde boy crouching behind me like I was a shield, faced with girls dying to get in my pants and guys who want to tear into my perfect face for being a whore magnet, I get the feeling that school is going to be far more exciting than I first made it out to be.

I half lead, half get led by Angel to the empty seat next to his at the back of the classroom. I notice that he grabs on to my hand the whole time, and that all the staring people now have a little bit of disgust mixed in with all the hate and horny. "Angel, people are staring," I whisper to him. Why am I whispering? It's a classroom. Yet I get the feeling that the only appropriate way forward is to unlatch my forearm from Oftanzas Jr.'s vice. I subtly pry myself away from Angel, and inconspicuously as possible, take my seat next to him. If it was even possible, Angel seems to shrink _more_ into his seat the moment I escape his grasp. The classroom chatter continues now at a lower volume, hushed slut voices (so still reasonably loud) discuss about how my hotness quotient has been affected now that I am apparently close to Angel Oftanzas. Thankfully, or maybe not, the horny part of their tiny nerve clusters win over the deceitful part, and I continue on in my role as the new fuck-target.

The next few moments of complete silence between me and Angel, while closest slut discusses about how she can best seduce me and whether or not I can hear her, are totally not awkward. My prayers to end this stretch of silent hell are answered when our class form teacher walks in. An elderly lady, who looked to be on the wrong side of 60, introduced herself as Mdm Hawkins. Her arrival in class was met by relieved sighs and even snickers, and I got the the feeling that she might be a bit of a pushover. With thin rimmed glasses, a hooked nose and pursed lips, Hawkins' first impressions was of a no nonsense tyrant who would use student's noses as pencil sharpeners. But then there's the dress. A bright yellow full length _thing_, decorated with hideous chrysanthemum flowers and unnaturally bright leaves, it flaunted perfectly all the curves and sags of her rather past-prime figure. Somehow, through an immense feat of willpower and sheer self-discipline, I managed to hold back my laughter, even though at least half the class let loose tiny giggles and one well disguised cough-laugh.

"Good Morning class. My name is Mdm Hawkins. I will be your new form teacher for this year. Now let us hope we have a fulfilling year ahead shall we." She spoke each word as if she were trying hard to focus on it, and her high-pitched yet shakily old tone did nothing to aid in her intimidation factor. It really is a shame that this face had to produce a voice of such complete unsynchronicity that the overall effect was almost comedic.

"Oh, right," Hawkins finally remembered me, "Now I do believe that we have a new young gentleman joining us this year. Could someone please point him out to me? I'm afraid I'm just as new to this class as he is." Tentatively, I raised my hand and immediately felt the 29 stares return to me. "Oh, right, young man could you please come to front of the class to introduce yourself. Yes stand right here," she guided me to my spot of shame in front of the teacher's desk. Knowing that first impressions are vital to one's survival in school, I sucked in a deep breath, relaxed my tense muscles, and began to speak. "Um. Hello. My name is Oliver."

_Shit. How do I continue from here. Tell them you're an android. The fuck. No. Why not. Because they'll kill me. I thought you didn't care what they thought. Well I don't want to commit suicide. Don't you think this conversation will be a little confusing to the readers. What read- _"Oliver dear, would you mind telling us a little more about yourself?"

_Shit._

"Well I like pro wrestling." Ahah. No small brained jock could ever resist the allure of another wrestling fan. As if by magic, a few of the more dim-witted guys suddenly looked at me with newfound respect. "I don't wear makeup, I guess." Boom. Immediately, whore heaven began a full scale debate, throwing around large words like "All-natural" and "No artificial sweeteners added". I'm pretty sure I'm gluten-free too.

And just like that, I sealed the popularity deal as handsome new transfer who definitely wasn't a robot and is at the top of the school fucket list. Maybe school life isn't going to be so hard after all.

**_Afterword: So this is technically still the first chapter, cause the first one was just an intro really. I'm still not sure why I split them. I hope you enjoy it ;)_**


	3. Chapter 3

"So. Why don't you come over and sit with us, Oliver," Courtney asked in her remarkably whorish tone. In no postion to refuse one of the top dogs of the school hierachy, I graciously accepted her offer, steeling myself to cling on to the last scraps of my common sense. I saw Angel walk into the canteen, and waved to him, but he deliberately avoided eye contact. Turning back, the entire table was staring at me as if I had done something wrong. "What?"

"You do know who that guy is right?" Her tone was laced with even more contempt and I'm-better-than-you than I thought possible. I nodded. "Then you know he's one of those robot sympathisers right?" Another nod, slower this time. "Don't you get it? He likes those forsaken cyborg things. I heard even his own father hates him."

"So can't I wave at him," I asked.

"Let me tell you something, Ollie-" That nickname sounds so slutty when she uses it. "If you want to spend the rest of your life with some nobody like Oftanzas, then be my guest. But don't come crying back to me when your world comes crashing down."

"Oh. Don't worry. I'd never be seen with someone _that_ shitty. I'm nice but I have standards too you know." I could feel myself almost vomit out the words, sounding more and more like a conceited brat. There are some things that must really be washed from your mouth with bleach, and betraying the one who saved your life is one of them. Courtney seemed proud of my transition to complete dick mode, and smirked in a way only a rich person could pull off.

Feeling guilty about throwing away Angel that easily, I excused myself and discreetly made my way to where Angel stood just outside of the canteen. "Why didn't you tell me about the people here?" He looked a little surprised to be approached by me. This Angel, it wasn't anything like the one I saw at home. He was too quiet, too scared. And then there was the sense that he was hiding something from me, something deep inside that only he could ever know.

"I didn't want you to miss out on them."

The words hit me a lot harder than I thought they would. So Angel would let himself be treated like shit just so that I could befriend people I didn't even like. The guilt of my earlier betrayal returned again, striking my stony heart with icy frost.

"Oh. Um. Thanks for looking out for me." I really hated myself at that moment. I had treated him like crap and could only come up with _that_. Fuck, I am complete douchebag.

Angel just shrugged, but for some reason he seemed a little happier, as if my complete asshole-ness had passed totally unnoticed. He smiled a little, and, if only for a flicker of a second, I saw the old Angel return. "You better get back to your table. Imagine what they'd do to you if you were seen talking to me."

"R-right." I felt disgusted with myself, in the presence of someone so selfless, I couldn't even bring myself to try and stand up for him. Maybe it's wrong, but I can't deny that it is scary. Seeing Angel miserable, assumably everyday because he has nobody to talk to, made me afraid to fall into a similar predicament. Self-preservation isn't only for natural humans. An android can wish to survive as well, so how can that be so wrong?

I dragged my despicable self back to popular kid land, and facaded my way through lunch break. Why can't school just be simple?


	4. Chapter 4

Jacqueline Mercap is the kind of person no one really knows. You see her, but she isn't really there. No one hates, no one likes her, no one really anything-s her. Maybe that's why we fit together so well - she doesn't make her presence known to all the rest, a stark contrast to the attention seekers that populate this egotistical hell hole.

"You know, generally when people sit next to you, the accepted social convention is to say 'hello'." Jacqueline _appeared_ on the seat beside me.

"It is also considered social convention for the sit-ee to scare the fuck out of the sat-one."

"Wuss." She cracked one of her rare Jacqueline smiles, face transforming into a picturesque portrait of refined prettiness, bordering on the edge of mature beauty. Her smile seems almost magical in its rarity and transfigurative property, like a hidden gem, veiled behind a mask of cynicism and sharp wit.

"You do tend to stare, don't you"

"Wh-what. No. Of course not. Why would I."

"So am I not good looking enough to warrant one of your oh so valuable gazes?" Such an innocent tone, to mask words laced with venom...

"Of course not. You're definitely worth staring at." _Oh fuck what have I said._ "I-I don't mean it like that. I mean you're not stare-able material. I mean you are but..."

"Theres no need to get so worked up," she sighed, "I'm just teasing." Ah, and there's the other smile, the sly one that gets to you when Dark Jaq strikes with her razor tongue.

"Just don't be such a dick. By the way Angel, you don't need to stand at the end of the table waiting for Jaq's tirade to end you know. You _could_ help a little." Angel muttered something that vaguely resembled "I didn't wanna innerrup" or something, and sat down next to me, clutching his chocolate croissant awfully closely to his chest. Recently, Angel had been getting more and more sullen, even at home. He no longer reverted back to his usual self at the house, and his average word count per day has steadily been decreasing. Ever since I met Jacqueline a month back, he withdrew even more into his fortress of solitude, opening up not even to me. But it wasn't just Jaq, ever since I'd joined his school, I began to see less and less of the 'real' Angel, and more of his lonely quiet persona. Maybe its not that he was being less of 'normal' Angel, but that the person I'd known all these years was really just a guise for the dark and brooding person he really was. Maybe this _is_ the 'real' Angel.

"Oliver, you haven't gone home with me in awhile." Angel left the statement hanging painfully awhile.

"Oh. I've been helping Jaq write a story after school. It's coming along quite nicely."

"What's it about?" He asked with badly feigned interest.

Jaq smoothly cut in to save me from my rather awkward conversation, "I'd greatly appreciate it if you read it after we're finished." Angel nodded, barely concealing his distaste, before declaring that he had stuff to settle at home.

"Go work on the story?" Jaq asked.

Deal with Angel later? Why not?

"Leggo."

-x-

"So, Oliver, are you gay?" Jaq brought up the question mid way through writing .

"I'm sorry. Wh-what?"

"You're surrounded by girls who would give anything to get in your pants, and some of them are quite hot might I add, yet you haven't given in yet. The only logical conclusion is that you are homosexual," she said matter-of-factly. There is only one person on Earth capable of saying something like that in so casual a manner, and that person is Jacqueline Mercap.

"Why can't I just not like any of those girls?" To be honest, I didn't really think I could be attracted to anyone at all. I haven't found anyone to like yet. And technically, we aren't the same species, so wouldn't it be like zoophilia or something? Or maybe roboto-philia...

"Fair enough. So do you think that your Angel friend doesn't like me?"

"You know, that's quite a sudden change of topic. You'd be hard pressed to write that in a story."

"Well this isn't a story, isn't it?"

Intrigued, I asked, "why would you think he hates you anyways? Nobody hates you, Angel just doesn't know you well, thats all."

"Really? Because I get the feeling he thinks I'm stealing you from him. After all, you do spend a lot more time with me."

"Of-of course he doesn't think that. I-I mean why would he. I don't choose who to spend time with." Jacqueline... you have no boundaries with your questions, do you?

"So you'd rather spend time with him than me?" She stood up from her seat, maintaining her casual tone like it was nothing. With one stride, she quickly closed the distance between us. Suddenly she was very close, close enough to feel her warm breath on my neck.

"That's not nice Oliver. I thought you didn't choose?" Suddenly there was very little background, and a whole lot of Jaq filling up my vision. Her red hair seemed to almost burn in the evening sunlight filtering through the window. Her eyes, eternal black wells that stretched into an infinite darkness, revealing nothing, yet hypnotising with their searching gaze. I could feel my neural pathways, conducting rapidly firing impulses through anodized silver threads, stimulating the artificial synapses to fire a mechanically enhanced heart, each thundering pulse blending into a single continuous throb of fight or flight induced pounding.

"Are you sure you made the right choice?" Her lips accentuated each word, rolling each one like it was a sweet to savour, a flavour of things unspoken in the night, of passion and seduction. I could feel the air temperature rising, cold sweat slicking my palms. She cupped my face with her ice cold hand, her touch like freezing stone, burning away the heat, and replacing it with something far more charged.

"Anyways, let's get back to work." She stepped backwards, and suddenly an infinite vastness of space expanded before my very eyes.

Fuck. My. Life. "Wh-what. Wh-what was th-that. H-how, you, hand, and then Angel, you said. What?" I struggled to form a coherent sentence, my mental processors in disarray from the overwhelming tidal wave of sensations that clouded my all logical thought.

"Speak proper english, Ollie dear. I am going to need your help for this piece." Nothing in the world, could prepare me for... for this.

"If you're going to continue standing there like mannequin, then I think we should pack up. Don;t you think we've done enough for today?" I nodded, still struggling to recover from the shock of her advancements. I felt like all my thoughts were italicised just due to pure bewilderment. Like, the fuck?

"Leggo, shall we," she motioned for the door.

Recently, Jacqueline and I had started to walk home together. She lived a few streets down, in a tall semi detached residence together with her parents. Even though it was a little bit of a detour, I couldn't just let a girl walk home alone at 6.30 in the evening could I? And besides, her parents were always away on business trips overseas, so she often came back to an empty house.

She stopped outside her front gate, a wrought iron affair that looked like it belonged in front of a much larger haunted mansion than a weirdly tall whitewashed terrace split down the central by a large concrete slab. The last vestiges of evening sun glinted of her hair, making the little frayed edges sparkle like a dusting of burning powder floating in a halo around her head. It's hard to think of anything other than 'beautiful' to describe the girl standing in front of me, because that's exactly what she is. Once again, she did her distance closing step, to appear right in front of me.

The adrenaline induced reaction began showing its symptoms.

Her voice sounded smooth, almost melodious in nature. "Not everything I said in the Lit room was a lie you know."

"Oh. Why would you lie about anyt-"

Her lips were soft.

The kiss deepened into a passionate affair of almost violent tongue wrestling. I didn't think. I couldn't think. I just felt. I felt her hands wrap around my neck. Felt her pull me closer into her. Felt my hands snake around her slender waist. Felt the contours of her back as she shifted around in our lustful drunkenness.

"You wanna" *breathe* "Come in?" *Breathe* "There's no one." *Breathe* "At home." She broke the kiss to gasp for oxygen.

I nodded my response, to overwhelmed to reply.

We struggled to get all our squirming Lin's through the doorway. As soon as I pulled shut the door, she slipped her icy hands under the hem of my shirt.

I gasped, "a-are we going to..."

She gave an almost imperceptible nod, before silencing me with a tender kiss on the nape of my neck. She slipped my shirt off in one quick move, pushing me onto the couch.

"Fuck."

"You don't need to ask." Ohmygod Jaq talking dirty is hot. Only the darkness of her evening-lit house hid my burning cheeks from the daggers that were Jaq's words.

"I guess. There's. No need. For protection. Since you're a robot right?" She said between kisses.

"How did you k-"

"Does it really matter?" She interrupted with her knowing tone, sly smile playing across those full lips.

I shook my head.


	5. Chapter 5

**_This is the last chapter. I know right. I hate myself_********_too._**

A single piercing ray of sunlight illuminated the room.

_WAIT FUCK ITS TUESDAY._

"Jaq! JAQ! WAKE UP!" My excessive capitalisation seemed to allow the words to register. Jaq sat up quickly, eyes wide with un-Jacquelinesque panic. "Oh shit! Get changed Oliver. Fuck we're late!"

In my panicked search for my shirt, I didn't even have to time to quip about the painful obviousness of her statement. Ah there it is...

"We didn't take much care of the uniform did we?" I sighed.

She hopped out of her bedroom, pulling on a sock halfway. "I see. Can you really wear that to school?"

I stared at the crumpled ball abandoned on the living room floor after last night's... _activities_. It's that or nothing I guess, and I've had quite enough of 'nothing' for awhile. Pulled the crinkled shirt on, looking more like a stripper than a student. "Leggo." Jacqueline finished dressing, looking no better than I did in our crumpled messes of fabric we called uniforms.

-x-

We arrived just in time for the bell signalling the beginning of school.

Just kidding, we were half an hour late. Jaq had to bribe custodian Denny just to let us in school, and then we had to smoke up a fantastically believable explanation for our lateness, involving old ladies crossing roads and a bus, train and cab breaking down in quick succession. I could tell Mrs Hawkins didn't buy a word we said, but being Mrs Hawkins, she accepted our apology and told us to not be late again. Not that she would care, but still, she _is_ a teacher, and teachers have some semblance of reputation to maintain.

As I took my seat next to Angel, he refused to even look me in the eye. He seemed pale, almost sickly, as he sat low in his chair, the shadows of the room coalescing in the wake of his gloom. _Shit, he might be a necromancer. This isn't the time to be thinking of that. Right. But the use of 'coalescing' was good wasn't it? You can't just insert whatever you want wherever to flaunt your mastery of the language. And yet here you are talking to a character directly. Shut up..._

Angel raised his hand tentatively, "Ma'am, may I use the washroom?" The strain in his voice was audible, like a guitar string pulled too tight, just waiting to snap. Hawkins looked a little worried about the troubling tone in his voice, but she unsurprisingly let him go. Can't even resist the request of some potentially suicidal kid, can you?

I raised my hand. "Yes yes Oliver, go check on him. And straighten your shirt while you're at it..." She waved me out of the class, still distracted by the questionable logic of her previous decision. I rushed into the bathroom closest to our classroom, finding it void of any Angels. Running along the corridors, I searched each and every toilet, quickly ruling the possibility of him just being sick. Where would Angel, a depressive lonely antisocial 15 year old boy with no friends barring one who just slept with a girl he hates go?

Oh. _OH fuck. _I ran up to the top floor, desperation adding length to my stride. _Please don't. Please don't Angel. Don't be stupid, if just for a little while, just don't be stupid._ I found the roof access open, and burst open into the sunshine.

"ANGEL FUCK DON'T BE AN ID-" I spotted him curled up on the floor in the middle of the roof. He barely looked at me, didn't even try to hide his crying, letting crystal clear droplets fall onto the cool concrete. I knelt down next to him, not quite sure what to say.

"So. You finally came huh." He sobbed. "Just _love_ what you see don't you. Your dear troubled little Angel crying like the fucking pissy waste of time he is right."

"You know I don't think-"

"SHUT UP. You don't think? You don't THINK ABOUT ANYTHING AT ALL. YOU SELFISH CUNT! CAN'T YOU LOOK OUT OF YOUR PERFECT BLIND LITTLE WORLD! CAN'T YOU SEE ANYONE ELSE! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!" He screamed, letting loose a torrent of bottled-up emotions, "YOU JUST WALTZ IN HERE LIKE YOU OWN THE PLACE, BUT YOU DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYONE ELSE DO YOU? YOU JUST SLEEP WITH ANY FUCKING PERSON YOU WANT, AND IT'S ALL JUST ME MEMEMEMEMEME! WELL I HAVE FEELINGS TOO YOU KNOW." Angel let the tears flow freely, not caring at all about me seeing him like this. "I have feelings too..." He said quietly, "I can't do this alone. I need you here, with me. Not with anyone else, just _me_." His sobs filled the suddenly still air, carrying a melody of despair and hopelessness.

"I'll never leave you," I tried to reassure him.

He laughed a pained little laugh, "I'm just the kind of person people like to leave huh."

"No you aren't. You're great and sweet and you saved my life, and I'll never forget you for that. Don't think that just because some idiots in this place think they're better than you that you can just give up. Fight back, Angel, you can't let them-"

Angel sat up, and in one fluid motion pressed his lips against mine.

I jerked away "Angel. Wh-what?"

"I told you. I'm the kind of person people like to leave." The sadness in his eyes betrayed the smile playing across lips.

"When did you? Why? What was that?" A thousand questions flashed through my head, my nervous processors overloading with thoughts racing a mile a minute.

"You never did get me. Everything I did, the only reason I sided with the robots, the reason I went through all that shit for, was you."

I was stunned. Angel, _he_, was in love with me? But how could I have not known? How did it happen in the first place? I stared at him, stared at the boy I'd known for so long, yet hardly knew at all.

"Don't leave me, Oliver. Please." His pleas hit a spot in my chest I didn't know could hurt. I must be having cardiac arrest. Yeah. That's it. This is all just a dream, and I'm actually dying on the side of the street, with my heart going into its final throes before death. _Now we both know that's not true. _OH SHUTTHEFUCKUP narrator. Can't you let me hope, just for a bit. _Androids can't have heart attacks. You're just being stupid. _

Angel got to his feet, and pointedly walked to the edge of the building, standing just on the precipice that would spell his quick and crushing doom. I could already picture his body, tilting forward, wavering on the edge of life and death before making the final plummet to the unforgiving concrete below. "ANGEL DON'T!" I screamed.

He turned suddenly, shocked by my outburst.

And he laughed. A proper, happy, angelic laugh. The kind that I hadn't heard in at least 2 months. "You thought I was going to jump. I can't believe you actually thought I was gonna jump! I mean you mean a lot to me Ollie, but you don't mean _that _much." He giggled, as if the idea of a painful gravity induced death was the funniest thing I could have implied.

"Wow. Even depressed people can be dicks."

He laughed even harder at that, almost doubling over in mirth. It kind off pissed me off a little. "You realise I was genuinely worried about you right?" I monotoned.

"I-I can't underst-stand how you can s-say that with such a st-straight face." He was laughing so much that he could barely speak comprehensible sentences.

I walked over to him, trying but failing to pull off Jacqueline's sudden-distance-closing stride for its apparent dramatic effect. What my effect was, however, was to make Angel burst into further hysterics at what he called my "penguin hyena fusion dance-walk".

"Angel. Fuck you."

That did it for him. He bent over backwards, so engrossed in his jubilant laughter that he _flopped_ straight of the edge.

-x-

I held him tight, refusing to let go, not even a tiny bit.

"You idiot. Don't ever do that again." I was too scared to dare say anything more.

Angel remained in my embrace, his laughter barely even having time to wipe itself of his face, the shock of falling still far too fresh in his mind. He let loose a tiny nervous laugh, "Well that was c-close, huh?"

I pulled him back away from the ledge, Angel still struggling to regain control of his basic motor functions. We flopped, breathless, side by side onto the concrete floor.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of hyperventilated silence, Angel spoke, "on the bright side, now we're even."

He's right. Now, nearly 5 months after Angel saved my life, I'd saved his. But before we could truly be even, there was one more thing to do.

I turned to the side, staring straight into the deep aquamarine pools of Angel's eyes. "You know, I've been deciding over these past 3 minutes-" Angel raised a skeptical eyebrow, "and, maybe, it can't hurt to explore alternative options."

"That's some rather rapid decision making going on there. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to end the-"

I cupped his face with my hand, and pulled him toward me.

His lips were soft.

_**Really long and ramble-y (Is that a word. I don't think so...) A/N (Because it seems customary to write an A/N at the end of a story) (Wow. I have 2-3 parentheses in a single sentence):**_

_**Ooh look it ended! Wow that was shitty ending huh. On the bright side I got a review! Yay me! I'm so shit at this :) Anyways probably gonna try something new next, because I'm shit at doing romance and stuff. It was fun at least... Perhaps I should try something darker... don't think romance is up my alley... maybe death and other associated themes... WELL WAIT FOR THAT MY FAITHFUL READERS WHO I REALLY HOPE DO ACTUALLY EXIST ALSO I DO KNOW THAT SOME CHAPTERS ARE TOO SHORT BUT I JUST STARTED WRITING SO SORRY K THANKS FOR THE TIP THO REALLY APPRECIATE IT KTHXBYE. Urgh I know I'm shit at this k, sorry I'm new to writing. Please read, I guess.**_


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